Three days later, they stood outside a traditional courtyard house in Suzhou.
"Wei's great-great-great-great-grandson lives here," Kieran explained. "His name is Chen Ming. He's an art curator, specializes in Ming Dynasty painting."
"Does he know about Wei?"
"He knows Wei was his ancestor. He doesn't know you carry Wei's soul."
A man in his fifties answered the door—Chen Ming had kind eyes and paint-stained fingers. When he saw Kieran, his eyes widened.
"Mr. Ashford? You called about the Wei paintings?"
"Yes. Thank you for seeing us." Kieran gestured to Adrian. "This is my partner, Adrian. He's researching Ming Dynasty artists for his thesis."
The lie came smoothly, and Chen Ming welcomed them inside.
The house was full of art—both ancient and modern. But the place of honor above the fireplace held three landscape paintings that made Adrian's breath catch.
He'd painted those. He could remember sitting by that lake, mixing those exact colors, feeling the brush move across rice paper.
"These are from my ancestor, Chen Wei," Ming said proudly. "He was a renowned landscape painter in the 1500s. Lived to be sixty-three, had four children, dozens of grandchildren. His work is still celebrated today."
"Tell me about him," Adrian said, unable to look away from the paintings.
Chen Ming smiled. "Family legend says he was a gentle man. Loved his wife dearly—they were married for forty years. He taught all his children to paint, and three of them became artists as well. He died peacefully in his sleep, surrounded by family."
"A good death," Adrian murmured.
"The best kind." Chen Ming looked at the paintings fondly. "His legacy lives on through his art and his descendants. I have twelve children and grandchildren between them. The Chen line is strong because of ancestors like Wei."
After they left, Adrian was quiet for a long time.
"He had a legacy," Adrian finally said. "Children, grandchildren, art that survived centuries. He left a mark on the world that lasted beyond his lifetime."
"He did," Kieran agreed.
"If I turn, I can't have that. I can't have children—vampires can't reproduce. I can create art, but I'll have to abandon it eventually to avoid suspicion about not aging. Any relationships I build will have to be temporary because I'll outlive everyone." Adrian looked at Kieran. "Is that worth it? Is immortality worth giving up the chance to leave that kind of legacy?"
Kieran was silent for a moment. "I can't answer that for you. But I can tell you what I've learned in a thousand years. Legacy isn't just about children or art that lasts. It's about the impact you have on the world and the people in it. I've saved hundreds of lives over the centuries. Protected humans from rogue vampires. Helped build the Accord that keeps both species safe. That's my legacy, even if no one knows my name."
"But you've also lost everyone you've cared about."
"I have. And it hurts every time. But I don't regret knowing them. Love is worth the pain of loss." Kieran took his hand. "You have time to decide. Two more months. Use them. Meet more descendants if you want. Live fully. And then choose."
Adrian squeezed his hand. "Thank you for understanding."
"Always."
FLASHBACK - 1,008 Years Ago
The Witch's Bargain
Kieran held Elias's cooling body, his screams having faded to broken sobs.
The witch knelt beside him, her starlight eyes sad but determined. "I can give you a choice," she said again. "But you need to understand what you're choosing. Immortality isn't a gift—it's a burden. You'll watch the world change, watch everyone you love die, watch centuries pass while you remain frozen. And every night, you'll feel the ache of what you've lost until his soul returns."
"I don't care," Kieran said hoarsely. "I'll endure anything if it means seeing him again."
"Even if it takes a thousand years? Ten thousand?"
"Even then."
The witch studied him. "You're very young to make such a commitment. Nineteen years old. You've barely lived."
"I've lived enough to know I can't exist without him."
"Love makes fools of us all." The witch sighed. "Very well. But know this—the transformation will change you. You'll become a vampire, a creature of night and blood. You'll need to feed on humans to survive. You'll be stronger, faster, but also cursed to never feel the sun's warmth or taste food or die a natural death. Is that what you want?"
Kieran looked down at Elias's face—peaceful in death, the boy he'd loved since childhood. "If it means I can see him again, yes."
"Then it's done."
The witch placed her hand on Kieran's chest, and his world exploded in pain.
His heart stopped. Then restarted. Stopped. Restarted. Each beat agony.
His body began to change—bones strengthening, muscles densifying, senses sharpening to supernatural levels. He could hear every heartbeat in the manor, smell blood from rooms away, see in perfect detail despite the darkness.
And the hunger. God, the hunger.
"The bloodlust will be intense at first," the witch said, her voice distant through his pain. "Try not to kill everyone. The monks at the mountain monastery can help you—they've dealt with newly turned vampires before."
Kieran barely heard her. All he could think about was the smell of blood. His father's guards still stood in the doorway, frozen by the witch's magic.
He moved without thinking.
When he came back to himself, they were all dead. Drained. His father too—Kieran had saved him for last, had made it slow, had looked into his eyes as he stole his life the way he'd stolen Elias's.
"Better?" the witch asked dryly.
Kieran looked down at his blood-soaked hands. "I killed them all."
"Yes. Does it bother you?"
He thought about it. About his father's face as he died. About the guards who'd held Elias down while he was murdered.
"No," Kieran said. "It doesn't."
"Good. Mercy is a luxury you can't afford in your first years. But try to develop it eventually—it's what separates vampires from monsters."
The witch started to fade.
"Wait!" Kieran called. "His body—Elias—"
"His body is just a shell. His soul is already moving on, beginning the cycle." The witch's form was almost transparent now. "But you can keep one thing. A reminder."
Elias's body dissolved into light, but something remained—a small object glowing in Kieran's palm.
A ring. Simple silver, worn smooth from years of wear. The ring Elias had worn since childhood, his only possession from his dead parents.
"Remember him," the witch said. "Remember why you chose this. And when his soul returns, give him the ring back. Let it remind him of who he was."
Then she was gone, and Kieran was alone in a room full of corpses, holding a silver ring and an eternity of grief.
Continued — The ring
Present day
Adrian watched Kieran turn the silver ring over in his fingers.
"You've kept it all this time?" Adrian asked softly.
They were back at the safe house, the night quiet around them. Kieran had shown him the ring after Adrian asked about keepsakes from their past life.
"It's the only physical object I have from before," Kieran said. "Everything else was destroyed or lost to time. But this..." He held it up to the light. "This survived."
Adrian reached for it, and Kieran placed it in his palm. The moment the metal touched his skin, he gasped.
A memory—but not his own. Kieran's.
A boy with light brown hair sliding the ring onto eight-year-old Elias's finger. "Your mother wanted you to have this," his uncle said gently. "It was your father's. He'd want you to wear it."
Young Elias looking at the ring with tear-filled eyes. "I'll never take it off. I promise."
And he hadn't. Through childhood, through meeting Kieran, through their first kiss and stolen moments and plans to run away. The ring had always been there.
Adrian came back to himself, tears streaming down his face. "I remember. I remember my uncle giving this to me. I remember promising never to take it off."
"You wore it until the day you died," Kieran said quietly. "It was on your hand when my father killed you. The witch preserved it for me."
Adrian slid the ring onto his finger. It fit perfectly, like it had been made for him. Like it had been waiting a thousand years to come home.
"It still fits," he whispered.
"Of course it does. It's yours. It's always been yours." Kieran kissed his hand, his lips brushing the ring. "I've been carrying it for a millennium, waiting to give it back."
Adrian looked at the ring, then at Kieran. At this vampire who'd kept a simple silver band safe for a thousand years because it was all he had left of the person he loved.
And something inside him clicked into place.
"I've made my decision," Adrian said.
Kieran went still. "Adrian—"
"I want to turn. I want to become a vampire."
"Are you sure? We still have time—"
"I'm sure." Adrian cupped Kieran's face. "I've thought about it, dreamed about my other lives, met Wei's descendants, seen what a full human life looks like. And it's beautiful. It's meaningful. But it's not what I want."
"What do you want?"
"You. Us. Forever." Adrian smiled. "I want to fight beside you, protect humans with you, build a life that spans centuries instead of decades. I want to see the world change, learn everything, experience things most humans never get to. And I want to do it all with you."
"The transformation—"
"Will hurt. I know. You've warned me." Adrian's grip tightened. "But pain fades. This—what we have—doesn't. Love that survives a thousand years doesn't just disappear because the transformation is hard."
Kieran's eyes were suspiciously bright. "When?"
"Soon. Before the winter solstice. Before Viktor's followers can make their move." Adrian leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Kieran's. "Turn me. Make me yours in every way possible."
"You're sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything."
Kieran kissed him then, deep and claiming and full of a thousand years of longing finally fulfilled.
"Then we'll do it," he said against Adrian's lips. "But first, we finish the hunt. We eliminate the remaining vampire lords. I want you to enter immortality in safety, not running from enemies."
"How many are left?"
"Three. And they're expecting us now—they'll be harder to kill." Kieran's eyes flashed red. "But I've waited a thousand years for this. They won't stop me from giving you eternity."
Adrian smiled, fierce and determined. "Then let's end this. Together."